


Itch

by angrytrollnoises



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dark! Will, Death, Gore, Grinding, Hannibal is a good boyfriend, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Sex, Smut, anyway here, i hate tagging man this shit sucks, this guys crazy amirite, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrytrollnoises/pseuds/angrytrollnoises
Summary: Will’s hands itched. They itched with the need to feel flesh tearing under his fingers, blood bubbling from gashes and cuts, bruises knotting under someone’s skin. He wanted to feel it all; wanted to slip into darkness as he watched the life leave someone’s eyes, their mortality slipping from their body as it is ripped away from them. By Will’s hands. They itched.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Itch

**Author's Note:**

> uhm I finished this at 5 am?? im like super tired but I couldn’t stop thinking about this in my mind so please have it... also sorry if the ending seemed rushed..... it was lmao  
> also if you want to talk about hannigram PLEASE add me on anything under angrytrollnoises!!  
> Comments are greatly appreciated!!! Please tell me what you think!

Will’s hands itched. They itched with the need to feel flesh tearing under his fingers, blood bubbling from gashes and cuts, bruises knotting under someone’s skin. He wanted to feel it all; wanted to slip into darkness as he watched the life leave someone’s eyes, their mortality slipping from their body as it is ripped away from them. By Will’s hands. They itched.

Sure, him and Hannibal had killed a few times since the fall, here and there when it conveniences them. But, it never felt like enough, like what he needed. Hannibal was precise, clean, knew what he needed to do to get the job done. Will on the other hand was raw, unhinged, desiring to feel the messier side of the hunt. He aches for the feral beast inside him to be coaxed out and let free.

So, here he is on a heated, Cuban evening, towering over a man who had dropped dead so few minutes ago by Will’s very own hands. And that should be enough, it really should be, but it isn’t. He knows it. Will leans down, dark blood having already covered basically his entire front side, starting to cool against his tanned, summer-licked skin. That alone was beginning to relinquish the beast inside him, the warmth stirring in his gut turning to lukewarm liquid; however it wasn’t going to be enough to revel in this man’s blood alone. Will slumped to his knees, grabbing tight ringlets of hair and pulling the man’s head back before snapping his face into the tile. If he were alive he would be screaming, and Will would be drinking down every one like it was the only water left in a desert.

The man’s face was even more bruised then before when Will lifted his head again, his lips ghosting on white and his eyes turned up in the most comedic way possible; it would almost make Will laugh if it weren’t for the situation he was in. He had taken a knife to the man’s throat, wanting as much blood as possible to stain the floors, so he smoothed his fingers down to press at the puncture, nimble fingers slipping into rip at parts of his flesh. The easy tear of tissue and muscle under his pads made him tremble, an unmistakable grin plastered on his features as he let out a soft noise of an emotion close to excitement.

Will tore at the man’s throat till he felt satisfied, chunks of gore littering the floor around them as he stared at the mangled mess with dark eyes. He didn’t care much to clean this up, knowing Hannibal could and would do a much better job of it. He’d be home any minute now nonetheless. He rose to his feet, nonchalantly stepping over the carcass as if stepping over a sleeping dog on the floor and padded to the bathroom.

He shucked his clothing from his body, relishing in the way the blood made him squirm as he peeled his shirt from his chest. It was sticky, drying in some places and he glanced at himself in the mirror for a moment. Will could of sworn he almost didn’t recognize himself but, it was the same old him; the same murderer who’d lived in him for as long as he could remember. Once he slipped out of his slacks, he stepped into the shower, turning the head on cold and stood under it for a minute. It made his whole body shudder, his toes curling and his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a couple ragged breaths.

Under the cold water, he hadn’t heard the second resident of their shared home enter, only catching the tall man out of the corner of his eye. He almost jumped, incredulous to believe the dark figure wasn’t the stag-man, till he realized this wasn’t a dream; luckily catching himself as he instantly realized who it actually was, that this was real. Hannibal was standing in the doorway, a seemingly blunt look on his face, one that didn’t tell much of what he was thinking. Will cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the shower floor which flowed with watered down blood.

“You’ve been busy without me.” Is all Hannibal said in the silence, taking a slow stride further into the bathroom. He shrugged off his jacket, then his vest, setting them on the counter and Will visibly swallowed.

“I just...” Will couldn’t find the right thing to say, glancing up at Hannibal through damp eyelashes as the man took a step into the shower now, still wearing everything else but the aforementioned. Will was taken a bit back by this action, his breath hitching as the ladder pressed him into the cold tile wall.

“You’ve made quite the mess of my kitchen.” Hannibal grumbled lowly, his voice not any more or any less blank then usual. Hannibal lowered his head, nose smoothing over the skin on Will’s neck, taking in a deep breath that made Will almost buckle in the knees. Hannibal’s large hands came to grip at Will’s hips, thumbs running over the bones that jutted out there and he pressed an open mouthed kiss to Will’s shoulder. Will brought his hands up to slip over Hannibal’s wet, yet still clothed, shoulders, fingers trailing up into his hair and gripping there. 

“Were you just that pent up, mylimasis?” Hannibal queried, one hand smoothing over Will’s navel, fingertips dragging along the scar he carved there. Will looked down between them, his chest heaving with each breath as drops of water streamed between them, ringing so loud in Will’s ears he almost couldn’t process that Hannibal had asked him a question.

“Y-yes... I wanted to feel him, w-wanted to watch him bleed out. I wanted to tear him apart under my fingers.” Will confessed softly, tears heatedly pricking at his eyes but, he couldn’t tell over the shower raining down on him. Hannibal pressed kisses up Will’s neck and jaw, humming in a sort of amusement as he sat back and looked down at Will.

“You’re beautiful.” Hannibal murmured, apparently some track in his mind having brought him to those words that Will couldn’t even think to hop on. Hannibal brought his hand to grip Will’s chin tenderly, tilting his face up so he could catch him in a languid kiss, tongue slipping past his lips in a forceful yet soft manner. Of course it wouldn’t matter either way, Will was a pliant putty beneath Hannibal, moving and opening up to him in whatever way his fingers wanted. He wouldn’t protest. Hannibal’s fingers trailed over Will’s adam’s apple, rugged and catching on fine hairs. His thumb squeezed there, causing Will to whimper into Hannibal’s mouth as he felt his oxygen falter slightly. It made him intoxicated with need, the pressure and kissing alone starting to arouse him.

Will tugged at Hannibal’s hair, his teeth pulling at the other’s bottom lip as Hannibal squeezed just that much tighter. Will had grown to full mast now, his erection aching between them as precum beaded at the tip. Hannibal took notice to how Will had grown aroused, amber eyes dark behind wet bangs as he glanced down at him. His thigh shifted between Will’s legs, pressing at Will’s cock with his knee as he let his grip loosen only a bit on his throat.

“ Rut against my thigh, I want to see your face as you come undone for me. I want to see the same face of frisson as you watched that man’s life slip from his grasp.” Will let out a moan at those words, his hips instantly rolling down at Hannibal’s command. Hannibal finally let go of Will’s throat, the shorter man’s head falling forward to press into Hannibal’s shoulder as he began to fuck against his thigh. He’d never ached to come for someone so badly, his grip on Hannibal’s hair shifting to his shoulders, nails digging in to surely leave crescent shaped marks later that Hannibal would wear proudly.

“Fuck... fuck, Hannibal...” Will moaned out, his voice absolutely wrecked, and his hips snapping forward with each thrust as he chased any relief to get himself off. Flashes of the man still lying on their kitchen floor made him choke up, his throat still sore and tight as he tried to hold back tears. 

His orgasm was too much for himself as it came, Will breaking down as he sobbed into Hannibal’s chest, coming against his leg with some uneven bucks. He’d never felt so overwhelmed, his chest heaving and his stomach churning as he tried not to throw up. Hannibal watched him for a few moments with hooded eyes before scooping up Will in his arms and carrying him to their shared bedroom. It was a short walk, the sound of Hannibal’s footsteps, running water and Will’s panting the only sounds echoing around the home.

Hannibal set Will on their shared bed, his wet, naked form looking like a drowned puppy and Hannibal pushed him back, climbing to hover over him.

“Mylimasis, you’re alright.” He tried to coo gently, capturing Will in a chaste kiss to drown out his sobs and it seemed to calm the other down slowly. Hannibal brought Will’s hand to his lips, kissing over his knuckles before pressing one more to his lips.

“It’s okay, I’ll go clean this up.” He whispered, slipping off of Will and turning out and down the hall to greet himself with the mess in the kitchen with a blatant smile.


End file.
